Don't Wake Me
by Pensez-a-Erik
Summary: It's late at night, and in his exhausted misery, Erik finds himself in her bed. Inspired off of the song 'Don't Wake Me' by The Family Crest.


_Now that your body's laying next to me,_

_Now that the world is resting at our feet,_

_Now that the silence in the night is clear,_

_Now that you're laying with me, lover dear._

He had not meant to fall asleep. Not in her bed, nevertheless. His mind vaguely recalled stumbling up from the stool of his piano, letting his legs lead him to her door, or where she would have stayed had he not sent her off with her boy. His bony and scarred hand grasped the doorknob and twisted it slowly, and the next thing he knew he was falling into the soft sheets of her bed, burying his head on the second pillow and breathing in her scent, and letting his eyes fall shut.

He was awoken, or so he thought, by the door opening and closing softly. Quietly, but not quiet enough not to stir him. His reflexes were oh so sharpened after living so long on his own. Still, though, he did not open his eyes, simply allowing his grip on the blanket to loosen as they were pulled from him. Erik could not will himself to move. What was there to continue for, anyway? If a murderer caught him in the night, then so be it. Perhaps they'd mercifully make it quick.

It came to be a surprise when the intruder slipped into his arms, his back to their front, tugging his hands to wind around their waist in a sort of bear hug. What was the term, spooning? Ah, yes. He tried to move then-- wanted to-- but as he breathed in to speak, he caught his intruders scent, and relaxed immediately.

Christine. His murderer was the love of his life, it seemed, prepare to slip back in and take what remainder of his heart once again.

He cracked his eyes open to see his angel had him enveloped around her, her head tilted up so they could share the same pillow. Not that he'd mind. He'd never mind. She was far too lovely for him to ever mind.

A small snore escaped her pink, perfect lips, her arms still laying atop his arms, trapping him effectively, and he felt his heart melt all over again. Had he not already been hopelessly, endlessly in love with her before, he most certainly was now.

This was a dream, and a delightfully cruel one, as well. What he would give for her to be truly his wife, for her to truly love him for who he was, for that small yet beautiful ring that adored her third finger on the left hand to truly be from him. It glittered even in the darkness. His eyes, accustomed to being able to see at night, examined the ring, his hand twisted in her tight grip to slightly rub his thumb over the gemstone, an oval lapis lazuli cut. It fit perfectly upon her finger and the dark blue matched her eyes. Erik watched her longingly, swallowing as she let out a tiny sigh before shifting closer to him. What an exquisite form of torture.

He was too tired, too sad to figure out whether or not this was truly a dream or that this could possibly be reality. She felt so soft, so warm, so real in his arms that he found himself almost believing as his eyes began to grow heavy, as his ever restless fingers stopped tapping out a rhythm on the back of her hand and fell idle. Her hair tickled his deformed nose, and he adjusted slightly to press his face into her neck and hair, inhaling sharply. His lips turned upwards in a smile.

His dear love stirred slightly in his grip, and for a moment he fretted that she would get up and vanish again.

"I love you," she whispered instead into the darkness, and in that moment he knew with a melancholic surety that he was dreaming. In no possible universe would this be true, that she would love him. No, Christine was far away and married to another. His consciousness could be relentless cruel.

Not that he'd ever relinquish this dream willingly. His arms tightened around her, for he had to cherish what little minutes he had remaining. Even though this wasn't real-- that he was all alone in the bed that he had once made for her-- he chose to bask in the few moments of unconditional love that he would never have another taste of.

Erik pressed another kiss to her bare neck before letting his eyes fall shut.

_Now that the dawn is resting on our backs,_

_Now let your body and your mind fall slack,_

_Now that the waking of the world is clear,_

_Now that you're laying with me, lover dear,_

_Don't wake me._


End file.
